


not the girl he raised

by ballerinaroy



Series: nineteen years later seems pretty far away [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Gen, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:28:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22389460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballerinaroy/pseuds/ballerinaroy
Summary: The Grangers had been politely avoiding any invitation into the Weasley home since returning to England but they weren’t left with much of a choice when it comes to their daughter’s wedding. If only a couple of their fights had found resolution. Perhaps the wedding weekend might not have been so miserable.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: nineteen years later seems pretty far away [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1263350
Comments: 29
Kudos: 114





	not the girl he raised

“We could come back you know,” David tried, stalling as much as he could in packing his bag for the weekend as Helen flitted about. “Hermione offered-“

“I know, but we’ve been avoiding the Weasleys ever since we came back,” Helen reasoned. He knew she had just as much hesitation spending the weekend there. “It was kind of them to open their home to us.”

Indeed they had been avoiding the family ever since returning to England late last year. But on the eve of their daughter’s nuptials there was no more room for excuses, ways to avoid the magical family that had taken Hermione in.

“Yes but-“

“But nothing,” Helen said in a surprisingly firm voice. “We agreed, we confirmed we’re going.”

Sighing he nodded, carefully zipping up the bag storing his suit.

“She’s just so young,” David said without turning around. “What if she regrets it?”

“We like Ron,” she replied, clearly confused.

“It’s not Ron I worry about,” he said, “It’s the rest of it.”

David Granger had nothing against Ron Weasley. In fact, David rather liked his daughter’s fiancé. He knew in their youth that Ron had been a source of frustration for Hermione, her letters frequently described some sort of argument they’d gotten into. But whatever disagreements they’d had in their younger years had built a firm foundation and he couldn’t’ve picked someone better for his daughter to marry.

In fact, if it were Ron alone he would have gladly endorsed the nuptials. But it wasn’t just Ron, David knew from experience that it was never just the spouse. It was the family that came with it, the world that she was marrying into.

David could still remember acutely the moment that he’d first met the Weasleys, just before Hermione returned to school for her second year. Arthur had been _enthusiastic_ to put it kindly. And then, just as David managed to overcome his eagerness Arthur gotten into a brawl in the middle of a store with another fully grown wizard. David couldn’t imagine ever conducting himself in such a way. And David supposed he’d never really forgiven the misconduct.

But there really hadn't been room for discource over Hermione’s decision to marry so young. He knew that arguing would only push her away and ever since they’d come back from England they’d both been trying to hard to maintain some guise of a pleasant relationship. And so on that pleasant mid-June afternoon, David had no choice but to pack his bag for what he was sure going to be a rather trying weekend.

“We could still try and get a room in the town nearby,” David tried, yet again, to tempt his wife out of going to the home.

“Everything’ll be booked up,” Helen pointed out.

“It won’t, they’ve no need for rooms. They can just disappear and reappear wherever they want, can’t they?”

“David,” she said sternly, zipping up her bag and staring at him. “It’s her wedding. She’s making an effort to have us there and we should do what she wants. Just this once.”

And there was nothing to say to that was there?

“Where’s Hermione?” David asked as Ron rang their doorbell at precisely five o’clock that Friday evening.

“Got held up at work,” Ron explained easily. He didn’t look upset and David had the notion that this sort of thing happened often. “She sent me along to get you. But if you’d rather wait-“

“Oh, no, of course not,” Helen answered before David could put in a gentle excuse. “You’re certain that your parents don’t mind us staying, because we could-“

“Dad’s been looking forward to you coming for ages,” Ron grinned. “Been studying up on the art of dentistry. Mind, if he start boring you just shoot me a look. He can get a bit carried away.”

So David picked up his overnight bag and forced a smile as he lay his hand on his son-in-law to be’s shoulder to experienced the now familiar but unpleasant sensation of being squeezed through a very small opening.

“I’m Bill,” he said, holding out one hand. “Ron’s oldest brother.”

“How do you do?” David said politely, reaching out his own hand in greeting. Ron had led them in and then disappeared with their bags leaving them standing at the edge of the garden teeming with tall red-headed men.

As they shook hands, David couldn’t help but notice his scars, healed gashes marring his entire face. He’d secretly been counting on being able to tell apart at least one of Ron’s brothers apart by their battle wounds. But looking around George’s missing ear nor Ron’s swirling scars were much of an identifier.

“Over there this is Fleur, my wife and our daughter, Victoria.”

At her name, a positively stunning young woman turned all her attention to her husband, smiling at him from a garden chair, a child no older than a year bouncing on her lap. The name triggered a long-forgotten memory. Back when Hermione was in school, she’d met the woman before. But there was no time to make a connection for Ron had returned with drinks and with him was another tall red-headed man.

“Charlie,” he introduced himself, handing Helen a drink. “Second oldest, most handsome.”

But he wasn’t without markings either. Patches of Charlie’s skin looked healed over once or twice and still another burn peaked out from a bandage. Evidently Charlie caught him staring for he looked down at the white wrapping and, with a sort of shy expression tugged on his robe so they were hidden from sight.

“I work down at the dragon reserve out in Romania,” he explained. “Got a call about an Ironbelly lose in the wild earlier this week.” He turned to Ron and in a joking but pointed voice said, “Now who in their right mind lets a dragon fly loose-?”

“Not three teenagers pulling a bank heist, I’ll tell you that,” Ron said to the laughter of all three brothers. Ron tugged at his bother’s collar, exposing more of a white bandage. “Has mum got a look at that yet? Because if not I would just _love_ to be there when she catches on.”

“It’ll heal by morning,” Charlie answered casually even though he glanced around, David suspected to see if he’d been overheard. He hastily pulled his robe back into place. “She’ll never know. And if she does I think offering to let her cut my hair should be enough of a distraction.”

Again the three brothers roared with laughter for an inside joke that the Grangers were left standing on the outside of.

“So, dragons?” David attempted when the laughter died away. “You, breed them, hunt them?”

Charlie looked positively alarmed. “Hunt? No, no, I care for them, study them. Brilliant creatures dragons, not to mention how useful they are to humans. Did you know that the Swedish Short-Snout can shoot flames as far as fifty feet?" 

“Sounds rather dangerous,” David said, feeling just as alarmed.

“If you’re not careful,” Charlie said casually, ignoring the still bandaged wound on his neck. “Accidents happen, but I’ve still got all my limbs. Nothing like Ronnie’s job here, hunting down criminals-“

Ron shook his head warningly and instantly Charlie changed track, “Or Bills, breaking curses.”

As each brother was named the Grangers looked at them in alarm.

“Breaking curses?” Helen asked, equally stunned.

Bill looked to Ron for guidance and he gave him another wide eye expression. “Er, I work for the bank,” he said carefully, “Recovering old treasures. Some of them are guarded better than others. It’s mostly just sorting out the right counter curse, lots of research.”

“Er, let’s not talk about work.” Ron said hastily, quite literally steering the Grangers away, “Have you met my niece?”

“Ron dear, when’s Hermione getting here?” David heard Molly ask as he made his way downstairs having navigated the winding staircase to the loo.

“Any minute now,” Ron said casually, checking his watch. “She was supposed to get off at noon but-“

As he spoke the fireplace suddenly turned green and out stepped the guest of honor.

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione apologized at once to the room, though her eyes were only on Ron.

It was immediately evident that Hermione was _comfortable_ in the crooked home. She came in, face flushed and threw her _cloak_ on a hook with a practiced, precise motion. Immediately she and Ron’s arms were around each other, greeting each other as if their parents weren’t in the room.

“Sorry I couldn’t come and get you,” Hermione said, pulling away from Ron at last to greet her father. “I knew they’d try and pull something but I at least thought they’d have the decency to wait until I was out of the office.”

“We agreed, no work talk,” Ron reminded her, but he was smiling at her like a proud idiot and Hermione stopped, grinning up at him. “The office will manage without you.”

Hermione beamed up at him and gave a reluctant sigh. “You’re right. I’m going to be much too busy anyway.”

Despite his reservations, David couldn’t help but smiling at the pair. It was evident just being with them how happy they made one another. And it seemed that Ron was the only one to get her to relax. David knew enough of his daughter to see the signs of over working, and to see someone that could redirect her so easily.

“Am I the last to arrive?” she asked of Ron.

He shook his head. “Harry just left to get Andromeda and Teddy and George went to drag Percy from his desk. Come on then, everyone’s outside.”

David followed the pair from the kitchen but before he could get in a word they were gone, sucked into the enthusiastic crowd gathered in their honor. He lingered for a moment at the edge of the group before making his way back to the chairs that they’d claimed.

“Hermione’s here,” he announced unnecessarily. It wasn’t that he thought she should spend the whole evening with them but to not even greet her own mother-

“Yes,” Helen said, sounding a little disappointed too. “I’m sure she’ll make her way over once she’s had her chance to say her hellos.”

It was another good quarter of an hour before Hermione made her way over to them but finally, after greeting everyone else at the party, she and Ron claimed the seats opposite where David and Helen had been sitting.

“Sorry I couldn’t come and get you,” Hermione apologized again, hugging her mother. “I got held up.”

“So Ron said,” Helen said, and David could hear the disappointment in her voice.

Hermione seemed immune the fact that she’d been neglecting them for they’d been seated for less than a minute when she said suddenly, “Have you been introduced to everyone? Because Luna just got here and-“

“We thought we might chat with you,” David interrupted. “We so rarely get to see you, they’ll be time later.”

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look but obediently remained in their seats.

“So, how’s work?” Helen asked. “Will they survive without you?”

“One way or another,” Hermione said. “And you? Any luck finding a new building?”

“No,” David said candidly. “Unfortunately running out on our lease hasn’t made us very favorable to the community.”

He watched, vindicated, as his daughter winced, avoiding his wife’s attempt to cut him off by kicking his shin.

“We’ve got some feelers out,” Helen said, glaring at him. “I’m sure something will open up soon.”

“Hello Teddy,” Ron said suddenly with relief in his voice and David turned his head to find Harry guiding a toddler over to the table. The child bore a striking resemblance to the man holding his hand which was odd considered David understood Harry not to have any living relatives.

The boy grinned and hurried over, stumbling over the flat ground. He nearly smacked into Ron’s legs in an effort to hug him.

“How are we today?” Ron asked the child, picking him up to a shout of laughter.

“Hi,” he said brightly, waving his hand at them.

“My godson,” Harry said proudly but David scarcely heard him for at that very moment something quite unbelievable was happening.

The boy’s hair, which had just been jet black and sticking out every which way, was changing, lightening and before David’s eyes turned a vibrant shade of red, matching Ron’s exactly. The three young adults, seeing nothing strange, cheered him on.

“Very fetching,” Ron approved, playing with a strand of Teddy’s hair. “Much better than that old mop.”

“Thanks,” Teddy said, clearly quite proud of himself. He looked over to his Godfather for approval.

“Sure you don’t want to look like me?” Harry tried, putting on a disappointed face. But Teddy merely shook his head and pointed at Ron’s hair proudly.

“Red,” he told Harry.

“That’s right,” Ron said proudly, leaning down so Teddy could touch his hair too. “Weasley red.”

“Weasley red, Weasley red!” Teddy repeated, grabbing onto Ron’s hair, delighted.

“Teddy’s a metamorphmagus, can change his appearance at will. It’s quite a rare talent.” Hermione explained to the bewildered look on their faces. Teddy smiled at her as she spoke and her voice softened as she addressed the boy. “But he’s very good at it, just like his mummy.”

“And where is your mother?” Helen asked of the young adults via the toddler.

This evidently was the wrong thing to say. The three young adults grimaced as Teddy looked to Harry for an answer.

“Er, Tonks didn’t make it,” Harry said quietly.

“Oh,” Helen said, her face flushing. “I didn’t…what about his father, is he-?”

Again with the tensing. It was Ron who replied to her faux pas in a very gentle voice. “Professor Lupin didn’t make it either.”

“I’m sorry,” Helen braved.

“It’s alright,” Hermione assured them, “There was no way of knowing.”

There was no recovering from their blunder but the three young adults wasted not a moment on it, turning their attention back to the child.

“Teddy, show Ron and Hermione what we’ve been working on,” Harry said, his grin suddenly mischievous.

The child climbed down from Ron’s lap and held his hands out as if holding an invisible pillow. Helen joined in the cheering for the boy and then, glancing at Harry again for approval, let out a sudden roar.

David scarcely paid attention as Hermione tried to correct Teddy about what he’d be doing tomorrow. The stories that Hermione had told him over the years suddenly seemed more alive than ever. So much death had littered her tales until the point of not seeming real. But in front of him were the products of the war she’d so foolishly charged into.

“I don’t know, Hermione,” Ron was saying, delighted by the prank. “I think Teddy makes a good ring _bear_.”

The first he’d ever heard of Harry had been from Hermione’s texts. The Boy Who Lived, famous for a night he’d been too young to remember where his parents had been murdered and he’d been spared from death by their love for him. But death hadn’t left him there, following him throughout their school years and refusing, even now, to stop meddling in his welfare.

“We’d better get back to your grandmum before dinner starts,” Harry said cheerfully, holding out his arms for Teddy to eagerly climb into. “I don’t want to be blamed for your table manners again.”

David blinked and found that the chairs all around them had been filling up. And although the table was full to the point of nearly bursting, there was still the odd sensation that there were many places where those departed should have been. Seats that lingered open despite the camaraderie of all those in company.

What was the point of magic if it only caused so much pain?

Dinner had been a delicious and filling meal of what he suspected to be all of Ron and Hermione’s favorite foods. It was funny as David gazed down at the mostly empty plates of roast ham, potatoes and greens he couldn’t quite tell which ones had been Hermione’s preference.

“Oh,” Harry said suddenly from the other side of Ron, leaning halfway across him to talk to him and Hermione. “I know you said you won’t look over my speech-”

“We’re not in school anymore, I don’t know why you feel the need for me to check over everything you write.”

“So I had Percy take a look,” Harry went on, ignoring her. “And he said that I should take out the parts that aren’t about you two.”

“What do you mean?” Ron asked, looking confused.

Harry dropped his voice even more. “I have some stuff about Fred, and Tonks and you know, all the people that couldn’t be here.”

The three of them exchanged a solemn look.

“Well of course we want you to talk about them Harry,” Hermione said, looking rather touched.

“Yeah,” Ron agreed, sounding a little choked up. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“Something about _ruining the decorum_ ,” Harry said in a mockingly serious voice that wasn’t his own. “I didn’t think you’d mind but he got in my head and…”

“That’s sweet of you,” Hermione said fondly and Harry smiled at them both.

The three of them exchanged a deeply personal look that was a little uncomfortable to be so close to. It felt like intruding, even sitting across the table.

“Why’d you let Percy have a go at it anyway?” Ron sounded like himself again and he looked amused. 

“I just thought, I mean he is the Undersecretary to the Minister he knows a lot about speeches,” Harry said, looking slightly embarrassed. Hermione and Ron looked at him imploringly still leading him to mutter, “You know, check over my grammar…”

“Well that’s good,” Ron said, “Because when we asked you to give a speech we’d hoped it was clear we were only asking you for your impeccable grammar.’

“Shut up,” Harry muttered.

Ron merely gave a crooked grin and stood, pushing back his sleeves to address the gathered crowd of friends and family. “We wanted to thank everyone for being here tonight it’s rare that I actually get to rehearse my dinner before I eat it-“

There was some groaning from the other end of the table and tittering but the group quieted down quickly.

“So I’m glad to be doing it in such good company. Of course, thanks mum for the meal, wonderful as always. Don’t know what we’d do without you and dad.”

This was met with some polite applause and another round of thanks.

“I’m not one for sappy speeches or speeches at all, I usually leave that to those smarter than me so you know, whenever you want to interrupt Victorie that would be alright.”

The small girl let out a shout at her name and again the merry group chuckled.

“No, but really, it’s been a long road to get here. We all know that our childhood wasn’t much of one and I’m quite lucky to have survived it at all really. And I know I wouldn’t have made it here without my best friends and I’m lucky enough to be marrying one of them tomorrow.”

“So thank you all for being here tonight and sticking with us through all of the polyjuice mishaps, secret armies, finding out my rat was, well, a rat-“

Several people chuckled.

“And honestly some quite spectacular rows.” He turned to Hermione who was still wearing that unbelievably happy smile. “Hermione, I love you and I can’t wait until tomorrow. Until the rest of our lives.”

The group began clapping and cheering as the couple kissed, not for the first time that meal, and then it was time to be ushered towards the cleared field where tomorrow David had been told a tent would be delivered and chairs would be placed. It was only as he waited at the head of the imaginary aisle for Hermione to finally come over so they could rehearse walking down it that it occurred to David that he and Helen hadn’t been thanked at all.

Was this how every father felt David, pondered as he sat at the edge of the room, listening to Percy, (another of Ron’s brothers) patter on about his work. They’d come to see Hermione and yet it seemed they’d seen very little of her all afternoon. Even now, all but those spending the night gone, she seemed too preoccupied for them. It wasn’t that the Weasleys weren’t perfectly nice, if not eager, but they hadn’t come to spend time with them.

“Everything alright?” Helen asked as he stood suddenly.

“Fine,” he answered stiffly, “Just need a breath of fresh air.”

Before she could stop him he slipped out the open door and from the warmth of the overcrowded sitting room.

He knew that he wouldn’t be alone for long, between his wife and the family so eager to enfold them but when he heard footsteps he was surprised to find his daughter behind him, holding a drink and looking sheepish.

“Everything alright?” she asked softly, walking over to him.

“Fine,” he answered softly.

David turned back to the bush he’d been examining, white berries just barely budding.

“I wouldn’t touch that,” Hermione warned as he reached out to examine them closer. When he looked over at her she blushed. “They’re toxic, we’re supposed to use gloves.”

“What is it?” he asked, removing his hand at once.

“Mistletoe,” Hermione explained, stopping her approach. “It’s used in a lot of poison antidotes.”

“Ah,” he answered.

There was a burst of laughter from the open door.

“You alright?” Hermione asked again.

He forced himself to look over at her and felt selfish, knowing that the concern on her face was for him alone. If it wasn’t for him she would no doubt be in the midst of the party raging on inside, intertwined with her fiancé. Unlike when the pair visited the Grangers, they had no qualms about touching one another here, acting like the teenager David had never known his daughter to be.

“You seem comfortable here,” David said, regretting his tone as soon as the words left his mouth. 

“They took me in,” Hermione said, looking disappointed.

“I didn’t know you needed taking in,” he replied, a little shorter than he’d intended. And then, unable to stop himself. “I just don’t understand what your mother and I did that was so wrong that you felt needed taking in.”

An expression of hurt flickered across her face but it was quickly replaced with another, harder expression. When she spoke again it was detached. “It wasn’t a reflection on you, dad. I needed taking in in the way anyone going to a new place does. A family who understood me, what I was doing.”

“Hermione,” he tried.

“I don’t want to fight with you, dad,” she said, looking at him firmly. “Not this weekend.”

“I’m not trying to fight-“

“Aren’t you?” Hermione said shortly. “Because you’ve been curt all night, with everyone and then you go wandering off, and when I follow you throw in a slight about the Weasleys.”

“Hermione-“

“They’ve looked after me for years, they’ve been there for me in ways you refused to and-“

“I’ve never refused to be there for you, Hermione!”

And there it was, the animosity rising like a wall between them.

“Fine,” Hermione said shortly. Her cheeks were enflamed and her eyes redrimmed and again David hated himself for making her so upset on what was supposed to be a weekend celebrating her. “You’re right. It wasn’t you. It was my fault. I didn’t like the way you reacted to information so I stopped giving it to you.”

“Hermione-“

“They’ve been there because I’ve allowed them to be,” Hermione continued. “And tomorrow I’m going to be a Weasley and that’s a fact that I’m very proud of.”

“Hermione-“

She stopped, but David was too stunned to find any words and they stared at one another.

“I don’t want to fight with you,” Hermione said finally. “We keep having the same arguments and we already know they don’t end so can’t we just set them aside like we’ve been for the past year?”

They both turned towards the house and found Ron and Harry just outside on the stoop, pretending to speak to one another all the while glancing up every few seconds. Hermione stared at them and they all nodded at one another as if they understood each other perfectly from so far away.

“I know that you’re not okay with what I’ve chosen,” Hermione said, looking at him again. “But I’m asking you to at least pretend like you’re alright with it, just for this weekend and then you can go back to hating what I’ve become.”

“I don’t-“

“You do,” she snapped, “You hate what I am, what I’ve chosen. But no amount of your disapproval will make me change my mind dad.”

Her comment stung, more than he’d like to admit, but there was no room for rebuttal. They were gaining more attention, Helen now peering at him from a window. There were tears in his daughter’s eyes, tears he had caused.

“I’m not trying to cause trouble, Hermione,” he admitted defeat. “I’m sorry.”

She stared at him with distrust.

“I’ll be good, promise.”

The house was overcrowded, but no one seemed to mind that they’d managed a bedroom to themselves.

His argument with Hermione had spilled over into his own relationship as Helen had been rather frosty ever since his return into the home. He’d known better than to start something over this weekend. Although they were normally under the same understanding about their daughter, he didn’t think that his outburst would garner her approval.

“And here we are,” Arthur said, pushing open the door to the homely bedroom.

“We hate to put you out,” David said. He’d spied a makeshift bed being put together in the sitting room and felt terrible that they’d given up their comfort for them.

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. We want you here.” Arthur said warmly, “Not a family event if the house isn’t bursting.”

“You know where the bathrooms are,” he said, having shown them both on the way up. “Now, the stairway can be rather creaky so feel free to cast a silencing charm-“ he stopped suddenly and chuckled to himself at his blunder. “I’d forgotten, let me just get that sorted for you.”

Arthur pulled his wand and did a little wave pointing first to the floor and then the doorway. Perhaps David was just imagining it, but suddenly the buzz from the home seemed muted.

“There you are,” Arthur beamed, “If you need anything, Ron’s just on the next floor in the attic and we’re downstairs.”

“Thank you,” Helen said warmly. “We appreciate everything you’ve done for us. And for Hermione over the years.”

“Of course,” Arthur replied. “You raised a really wonderful daughter. You must be very proud of her.”

“We are,” Helen said proudly and Arthur turned his attentions to David expectantly.

Only, David could find no words to say. This night had it more obvious than ever that they had had very little to do with Hermione’d development. Every story someone told, from the time she’d brewed a complicated potion at the tender age of thirteen to the time she’d had a part in a bank heist, was one that David was hearing for the first time. He didn’t know his daughter, barely recognized her.

“Yes,” David managed in a strained voice, realizing that everyone was staring at him expectantly. “Quite proud.”

But just as confused as to who she really was. The moment the door closed the smile vanished from Helen’s face and she turned away from him, removing her jewelry and unzipping her overnight bag.

“Lovely dinner,” David attempted, trying to suss out his wife’s mood.

“Mmh,” she hummed,

“And the Weasleys, they’ve been so welcoming.”

“Yes, they have been.” She said shortly. “I don’t see why you’ve had to be so short with them.”

“We came here to see Hermione, not them,” he defended himself. “We barely get to see her as is and now-“

“They’ve been good to her David, and this is what she’s chosen. Am I pleased that my own daughter doesn’t want to share her life with us? No, of course not. I wish she’d chosen differently, chosen better, but arguing with her is only going to push her further away and if you want any chance at a relationship with her then-“

“Of course I want a relationship with her, that’s why I’m here!”

“Then you need to stop trying to pick and fight and learn to live with what we’re given!”

“She sent us away. She-“

“I know David, I was there.”

He stopped trying to yell at her and stared at his wife. “And yet you never talk about it with her. Every time I bring it up you try and brush it under the rug.”

“You’re not the only one who was hurt by her who was disappointed by her actions. But I never get a chance to say my piece, do I? You insist on always, _always_ bringing it up. I have to stay quiet because I see how much your arguing hurts her and I don’t want her banishing us again.”

And there was nothing to say to her. David knew how much his wife hurt. They’d spent long hours discussing how what had been done to them had altered their lives forever. Back in England for half a year and yet nothing felt the same.

“She has to understand that her consequences have actions,” David said quietly.

“She does understand, David. Can’t you see how much weight she carries?”

They’d proceeded the rest of the night in silence. While they weren’t immune to disagreements or being on opposite sides, he was unused to going to bed at odds with one another. But Helen had turned away when he’d tried kissing her and climbed into bed leaving him to extinguish the lamps.

“Goodnight,” she told him in a disappointed, not to be argued with tone and faced stubbornly away from him.

But it wasn’t that simple. Minutes passed and David lay on his back, wide awake, running through the argument over with Hermione and over in his head. How could he have been so insensitive as to attack the family she was about to marry into? The family that had taken her in all those years ago and had been so warm and welcoming to them.

Helen was long asleep when David gave up on trying. He rose, thinking perhaps a quick trip to the loo would inspire rest and, perhaps, he’d manage to run into his daughter along the way. Apologize for his blunder.

The door made no sound opening but any residual noise from the guests making their way to bed had stopped. It was later than David had thought. In fact, there was no sound at all, that was except for two voices, speaking to each other softly in the stairwell. David recognized them at once, Hermione and Ron sounding just out of sight.

“If your mum catches us we’re going to be in trouble.”

“We’re getting married tomorrow, what’s she going to do?”

There was a giggle. “Say it again.”

“What?” Ron questioned, “That we’re getting married?”

And again that giggle that was quickly muffled.

“Hermione Granger,” he teased, “never took you as the type to be so into weddings.”

“Not normally, but there’s just something to be said about the groom.”

And again the muffled sounds. David was about to shut the door, not wanting to embarrass his daughter in her moment of happiness when the kissing stopped and a question came.

“You sure you don’t want me to distract him tomorrow?” Ron asked. “Because dad and Bill-“

“No, it’s alright. We knew there’d be problems.” Hermione let out a long sigh. “I shouldn’t’ve followed him out into the garden. It was never going to be anything but trouble.”

No longer did David need to wash his face. He felt like he’d been doused in cold water. Not only had he embarrassed himself, hurt his daughter, but his actions had been expected, _anticipated_.

“They came,” Ron said encouragingly.

“I know,” Hermione agreed. “It’s something.”

The hurt in his chest swelled. Their attendance hadn’t been a guarantee in his daughter’s mind. To her own wedding.

“Do you ever regret it?” Ron asked in a small voice.

“Not a moment,” Hermione said fiercely. “I would never regret anything that led me to you.”

When sleep came it wasn’t restful and yet the dawn stubbornly arrived forcing David from the bed and to prepare himself for what was to come. Thus far Helen had been no more welcome to him than the night before but they were no longer arguing which he took as a good sign. He hadn’t told her about what he’d overheard the night before, now more embarrassed than ever over his outburst.

A knock at the door interrupted their silent preparation for the day and David opened it to find Molly, positively beaming in her dressing gown, hair already in curlers.

“Good morning! I wanted to see if there was anything you needed and let you know that there’s tea and some breakfast in the kitchen, you’re welcome to anything.”

“Thank you, Molly,” Helen said warmly, “Is Hermione up?”

“For a few hours. Always an early riser, your daughter. She’s down in Ginny’s room, Fleur has been at her hair all morning. Gone through about a gallon of sleek-easy. Hermione’s always had such lovely hair, I don’t know why she insisted on straightening it.”Suddenly she turned and with a motherly instinct shouted down the stairs, “Ronald, and where exactly are you heading?”

David peeked his head out the door and down several flights of stairs made out the top of the man’s head, indistinguishable from his brothers at the distance.

“Oh, uh,” he said uncomfortably and hurried up the stairs looking guilty. “I was just… you know I tell Hermione just about every day how nice her hair is. But _your_ daughter tells me that I’m a boy and my opinion doesn’t matter.”

“I hate to be a bother, but I suppose there’s nowhere to plug this in?” Helen asked, holding up her curling iron which in retrospect they both should have considered. Hermione had been ranting for years about the lack of convinces in the wizarding world.

“I’m afraid not,” Molly replied, looking at the iron with some suspicion.

“It’s for my hair,” Helen explained.

“She needs electricity,” Ron said suddenly, pointing at the chord. There was something a little off the way he said the word _electricity_. “No, I’m afraid we don’t…. Magic interferes too much.”

“Oh,” Helen said, frowning at her hair. To David, it looked perfectly fine, but he knew from his many years of marriage not to state his own opinion on his spouse's hair. “Well, I suppose..”

“I could take you back to your home,” Ron offered. “Only, will it take long?”

“Not very, just need to touch it up,” Helen said, looking relieved.

“No, no, you’re needed here,” Molly replied, shaking her head. “Who’s ready? Go and fetch George-“

“I don’t mean to be a bother,” Helen said but even so she was gathering the contents of her bathroom that she’d packed the night before.

“It’s no trouble, you should feel your best,” Molly said warmly. “You go look in on Hermione and I’ll find someone who can be spared.”

David remained behind as the group set off, lingering for as long as he could over his hair and making sure that his suit was wrinkle-free. Finally, when he feared someone seeking him out, he left the refuge of the bedroom to go in search of his wife and daughter.

It was only when he exited the room that he remembered the silencing charms Arthur had so graciously applied for outside he could hear the house was alive with talk and laughter.

As he made his way downstairs he heard giggling and when he arrived at the first-floor landing found the source. Inside, a gaggle of women was grouped around Hermione, brushing and fussing with her hair. He watched as Ginny leaned in and whispered something to Hermione, causing the two to shake their heads and Hermione swatted her away.

“Oh, Mr. Granger,” Ginny said in surprise, catching him spying from a crack in the door. “You can head in.”

“Ah, thank you,” he replied as the girl set off down the stairs.

The sound of his voice altered his daughter to his presence for she raised her head and it took a second for a warm smile to spread across her face. Nevertheless, she waved him into the room.

“Is your mother back?” David asked, afraid to get too close to her.

“Not yet,” Hermione said, turning her head and then, immediately, her head was forced forward by Fleur.

“Face forward please,” Fluer instructed, jamming another pin into what looked to be a rather complicated braid which was now being decorated with small flowers.

A second, younger, girl with the same shade of blonde hair was hunched over a small basket of flowers picking through them. “These aren’t what we asked for,” she said, looking displeased.

“Yes, well you sent Luna to do the collecting,” Hermione said with a slight grin and Fluer said something that didn’t seem so polite in French.

“I know she iz your friend,” the Fleur said gently, “But-“

“It’s alright,” Hermione chuckled.

Fleur inspected Hermione’s hair and the basket of leftover flowers in all different colors. The two women conferred in French for a moment before Fleur said, diplomatically, “I think it would be better for us to finish the collecting, come Gabrielle.”

The two blonde women hurried from the room, still whispering under their breath in French. It left the two of them alone and David hovered uncomfortably just over the threshold.

“I wasn’t so sold on the flowers,” Hermione confessed, standing up and inspecting herself in the mirror. She turned, the light catching the sleek strands making her look angelic. “But I think they’re rather nice.”

“You look lovely,” David said honestly.

She no longer looked eleven but much older and as if she belonged in the chair and for the first time David felt no qualms about his young daughter going down the aisle. Before he could say anything more, smooth over the words from the night before there was a knock at the door.

He turned to answer it and just as his hand closed around the knob it Hermione whispered, “I’ll bet you five gallons that’s Ron bringing me something to eat.”

Indeed a beat later his voice rang out. “Hermione?”

The door began to inch open “I know I’m not supposed to see you but- oh, hello Mr. Granger.”

Ron’s face went pale and he stopped instantly trying to peek into the room. In his hands indeed was a plate of food. “Er, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“That’s quite alright,” David replied, “Did you need something?”

“Er—no, I just,” he raised his voice, “Just wanted to make sure that Hermione didn’t forget to eat something.”

“Sweet of you,” Hermione replied, staring at the door longingly. “You didn’t bring me anything garlicky, did you? I doubt I’ll be allowed from this room even to brush my teeth.”

“Just toast,” Ron answered, staring now at the door as if picturing her behind it. “And some fruit.”

David glanced back to the fruit and cheese tray someone had laid in the room and decided not to shame his son-in-law to be. Hermione wore a fond sort of smile at the offering.

“Thanks, Ron.”

He awkwardly passed the plate to David.

“You need to eat something,” Ron said again, “don’t want you swooning too hard when you see me in my dress robes.”

Hermione let out a little giggle. “No, don’t want that. As heroic as you’d look saving me from falling.”

They both grinned though they couldn’t see one another. When neither of them said another word David cleared his throat and Ron snapped his attention back to him.

“Right, well, if you need anything…” he trailed off uncomfortably, clearly not wanting to leave.

“Can’t wait to see you,” Hermione whispered in a voice David knew wasn’t for him.

Ron’s cheeks flushed happily and he nodded. “Yeah. Love you, Hermione.”

“I love you too,” Hermione said in that same quiet voice and finally Ron slipped from the door.

David turned back, passing the plate to Hermione who picked up a piece of toast and began nibbling from it at once. She looked completely smitten, staring off at nothing as she ate from the food not so different than the tray within her arms reach.

“He’s a good man,” David said finally, guilt still plaguing him from the conversation he hadn’t meant to hear the night before.

“The best,” Hermione answered happily and then blushed a little too.

He opened his mouth to go on, to repent, but just then the door opened and Ginny returned, carrying in her arms a dress covered in a white bag.

“I told Harry it was hanging on the back of the door and where did I find it?” Ginny asked shaking her head. She hung the dress next to the others and then turned to Hermione. “Oh good, you’re eating. And Ron said I’d have to force something down your throat.”

“Do you want me to go?” David asked, thinking perhaps she’d like her space, didn’t want to force her to create a ruse that got him from the room.

”No, dad, stay please.” Hermione said, looking suddenly worried. “There’s plenty to eat, so long as you don’t mind the company.”

“Of course not,” he said, settling into a chair at the edge of the room as it swelled again as Molly joined her daughter. “No place I’d rather be.”

When he’d made his way downstairs, David had thought there’d been hours to go before the ceremony but all at once the time was upon them prompting a flurry of movement, Molly constantly running from the room to yell at one of her sons or another.

David wasn’t quite sure how it happened but suddenly the room, which had been bursting, emptied and it left the two of them standing there. Hermione, looking angelic with her hair sleek and pushed back and much older than David thought she should be. She glanced up at him in the mirror and looked rather nervous.

“You look beautiful,” he told her honestly and her doubtful expression turned bashful as she looked down and fidgeted with her skirts. David reached over for her shoulder and gripped it. “I mean it, so beautiful.”

Hermione looked up and there were tears in her eyes.

He considered not asking out of respect of the many fights he’d agreed to a ceasefire but his fatherly instinct was overpowering.

“Are you certain?”

“Dad,” Hermione sighed, the wall erecting again.

“Ron’s a great man,” he continued. “But as your father, I only want what’s best for you, and if you need me I will-“

“I’m certain,” Hermione interrupted, understanding on her face. “I’ve never been more certain about anything.”

David smiled at her, and to his own astonishment, reached for her wanting to embrace his daughter.

She was stiff in his arms, postured. They pulled apart and he appraised her again, wondering when exactly she’d gotten so old. It seemed only yesterday that she was an infant in his arms, a toddler he was reading to sleep, an eleven-year-old he was sending off to a world he had no knowledge of.

In that moment all of their arguments seemed arbitrary and he felt ashamed for his behavior the evening before. Of course, he was proud of her, even if he didn’t understand what she had chosen.

A knock at the doorway interrupted him before he could find the words and Hermione turned to face the set of speckled eyes that were peering in.

“Hermione?”

“You can come in,” she gestured him in and he slid through the doorway, shutting it behind him. “Everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” he said hurriedly, “Just wanted to check in on you.”

David had never seen Harry’s hair so flat and tidy. He looked a little uncomfortable in his dress robes, or perhaps he was always so uncomfortable.

“You look amazing,” he told her, but there was no lust in his tone or expression.

“Thank you,” Hermione said warmly as he stopped just in front of her.

Harry was studying at her with a serious expression and hesitated before speaking. “Are you sure?”

“Sure about what?” Hermione asked, her full attention upon Harry.

“About this, about him,” Harry said, a fierce look in his eyes.

Hermione’s face twitched in amusement. “Yes, Harry, I’m sure-“

“Because if you’re not-“ Harry said, “I’d make sure you were alright, you know that don’t you, Hermione?”

Hermione gazed at him fondly and nodded. “I know,” she said firmly, reaching out and gripping his hands. “I’m sure, Harry.”

They stared at one another intensely and then he nodded.

“Some best man you are,” Hermione chided, “Offering to run away with the bride.”

“I’m not,” Harry said hastily, looking embarrassed.

“Besides,” Hermione said, looking amused again. “You and dad could have coordinated this, you know.”

Harry glanced up and regarded David for the first time. In his shoes David supposed he’d be embarrassed but Harry was a much better man than he and merely grinned at him.

“He’s alright though?” Hermione said worriedly. “You made sure that George didn’t get him drunk?”

“No,” Harry told her, and just as her expression cleared, “But only because I got to him first.”

“Harry!” Hermione said, outraged.

Harry sniggered. “I’m only joking. He’s _fine_. Ready to get it all over with, keeps trying to sneak up to see you.”

And then, something new was in her expression. “Harry, you’re sure you’re alright with this?” 

“Yes, Hermione,” Harry said, exasperated. “I’m positive.”

“Because if you aren’t-“

“What, would the pair of you run away with me?” Harry teased, but Hermione seemed beyond chiding.

“Yes, Harry,” she said firmly. “We would.”

Harry looked annoyed, “I’m _fine_ , Hermione. Just like I was when you asked me last night or this morning, or when your husband to be asked me ten minutes ago.”

Hermione’s smile was a little strained.

“Honestly, if I weren’t then I would have acted out long before now,” Harry assured her. “I’m happy for you, Hermione. For both of you. You have to start believing me now or the rest of our lives are going to be pretty miserable.”

“I just want you to know-“ Hermione said desperately and Harry stopped her, gripping her hands.

“I know,” he said firmly, looking straight in her eyes. “I know, Hermione, but you deserve this. Both of you do.”

Hermione examined him and then, without warning, David watched as they embraced, clinging to one another. It seemed like an eternity when they separated, both with wet eyes.

“I’m fine,” Harry said before she could start in on him again. “Honest, Hermione. Besides, I have my eye on your maid of honor you know.”

“Stop it,” Hermione said, waving him away.

He grinned at her and nodded towards David who’d tried to put himself as much in the background as he could for the tender moment. “Well, I’ll see you soon.”

However difficult it had been to see his daughter surrounded by love the evening before, there was a different sort of difficulty as he looked around the room of strangers all smiling and laughing, joined together to watch Hermione and Ron wed.

It was foreign, the idea that they’d all been through war. They all looked so young but everywhere he glanced there were reminders. Scars unhidden by cloaks and dresses limps and limbs that didn’t move in a normal manner.

What was the point of magic if it had caused so much pain?

“Hello!” came a chipper voice from beside them and David stopped his staring to find another young boy “You must be Hermione’s parents?”

They nodded. Everyone else here seemed to know one another,David figured they stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Dennis Creevy,” he introduced himself, offering his hand to shake. “I was in school with Ron and Hermione.”

David accepted it.

“I’m like you,” he said and then to the confused looks on their faces. “Raised in the muggle world that is, my parents they’re physical therapists.”

It was evident he was trying to be friendly and David nodded at an empty chair. “Please, have a seat.”

“You were in school with Hermione?” Helen asked politely.

Dennis nodded. He wore an overeager smile but it was genuine. “A few years behind just qualified myself. They’ve been good to me though, Mr. Weasley just set me up with an interview in the muggle relations department.”

“And what sort of work is that?”

“Hoping to bridge the gap between the two worlds,” Dennis said proudly. “It was hard on my parents, understanding what we got up to in school and understanding everything that happened. Complete shock when my brother Collin got his letter.”

His passion was evident and although David didn’t fancy being sucked into a conversation about his own experiences, he found it hard not to be enthused by the young man.

“And is your brother here too?” David asked politely.

It was then that he promised himself never again to ask about the whereabouts of a person for Dennis, just as his daughter and her friends had done so many times the night before, cringed and shook his head sadly.

“No, uh, he snuck back to fight. He didn’t-“

And his smile was suddenly gone and the young man, so happy and eager just moments before, was misty-eyed.

“Fought bravely though,” he said after a moment to collect himself. “My parents, they had a hard time understanding. Didn’t want me coming back and it took a lot of convincing. I think if the worlds weren’t so divided it might have been easier on them.”

“But they’re alright with it now?” David couldn’t help but ask even to the expense of glare from his wife.

Dennis struggled for a moment. “They’re getting there. I think it helps that he hasn’t been forgotten. Rather well known, all things considered, the youngest to give their life. And now that I’m of age I can show them more of it.”

Again David wanted to press, to understand why these children had sacrificed so much for a world they had no stake in. But at that moment Ron and Hermione, who’d been on the dance floor, returned rather red-faced and beaming.

“Ah, Dennis, glad you could make it,” Ron said, thumping the boy on the back.

“Of course,” Dennis said and he was back to his over-wide smile that was rather fitting for his features. “Ceremony was beautiful. Say, have you seen your dad around? I wanted to thank him again for setting me up with Perkins.”

“Last I saw he was over there talking with Auntie Muriel,” Ron said, gesturing over his shoulder. “Mind you’ll want to wait for him to get away from her. She’s upset about the cake or something.”

But Dennis seemed to have had his fill of the Grangers and bid them both a hasty goodbye.

“I didn’t know you had any Aunts, Ron,” Helen said as the couple poured themselves water and began drinking heavily.

“Mum’s Aunt, raised her after her parents passed,” Ron explained, “I’d introduce you but she’s not a fan of…well…anything, not even us.” 

Hermione leaned in, “At Bill and Fleur's wedding she said that I had _skinny ankles_. As if I have any control over that.”

“Skinny ankles,” Helen repeated, amused. “How peculiar.”

“We only invited her on the condition that she couldn’t say anything bad about our poor bone structure.” Ron went on. “Unfortunately Charlie won the bet about what she’d go after instead.”

“Talking about Auntie?” George said, appearing out of nowhere and said in a mocking tone “ _An outdoor wedding in the middle of the day? I would not have come if I had known this was a ploy to kill me._ ”

All three chortled with laughter.

“Come on then,” George said, pulling Ron from his seat. “I’ve convinced Angelina to do shots but she only agreed if her star keeper joins us.”

And just as soon as they’d come they were gone, leaving the pair alone again.

The night had worn down as any good party should have filled laughter and tears, hugs and promises of seeing one another soon. And soon all that was left was the Weasleys and some close friends, all gathered around a table drunkenly laughing and telling stories.

Hermione looked exhausted but uttered pleased from her position on Ron’s lap. They were leaning heavily on one another, kissing without shame and giving each other long, lingering looks.

“Are you heading to bed?” Hermione asked, catching sight of him as they finished a conversation with the elder Weasleys. She stood and walked, a little wobbly over to him.

“We thought we might turn in,” Helen said, hugging her daughter. “It was a lovely party dear.”

Hermione smiled at them.

“I’m so glad you came,” she said.

“Of course,” her mother assured her, brushing back the hair from her daughter’s face. “We love you, dear.”

Helen turned to Ron, hugging him as well and whispering something in his ear. It left David and his daughter a moment and they stared at one another.

“Thanks, dad.” She said automatically. 

He hugged her as he should but there was still stiffness in her embrace.

“Harry said he’d make sure you got home in the morning,” Hermione said, gesturing back to the group. At his name, Harry raised his head and nodded at them. “We’d planned on stopping in but honestly I think we’ll be sleeping through the first leg of the honeymoon.”

“Come see us,” David said, “After you get back.”

“Of course,” Hermione nodded.

And the question that had plagued him all weekend slipped from his lips. “Did you really free a dragon?”

Hermione blinked at him for a moment and then a mischievous grin spread over her face. “It’s quite a long story, but yes, we might have had something to do with the Ukrainian Iron Belly still terrorizing England.”

“Well, when you get back then I think that’s a story I’d like to hear.”

It didn’t seem possible but she looked more pleased than ever. Seemingly on impulse, she reached for him again, hugging him fully and he clung to her just as tight. When they separated so had their spouses and Ron and Hermione found each other at once.

“I will warn you,” Hermione said, “It does involve breaking into a bank. And stealing a priceless artifact, that I later destroyed.”

“Are you talking about the cup?” Ron asked, looking proud. “Brillant you were.”

Hermione nodded and in that moment David finally understood that she wasn’t the girl he’d raised. Perhaps, he thought, she was something better.


End file.
